A Drop In The Ocean
by OfStrangeShadows
Summary: If the waves could wash the sand away, could they wash away his troubles? Could the waves wash away his worries if he wrote them in the sand? Horrible summary. The lyrics of A Drop In The Ocean by Ron Pope are in this! :D USxUK


**A.N: Be forwarned. There is OOC-ness in this. A LOT of OOC-ness.**

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He was sighing; Watching intently as the waves washed over the sand. In the back of his mind, he wished that he could be washed away too. A feeling was nagging him and refused to leave him alone.

_Remorse_?

_Melancholy_?

_Anger_?

He crossed those three emotions off of the list.

He wasn't regretful on anything. He wasn't depressed in any way. And he certainly wasn't angry. It was a feeling of utter peace and a raw, aching feeling. He was trying to discover what it was for days. It had been his own idea to come to the ocean and figure out what it was.

Something persuaded him to kneel down and begin to write in the wet sand. At first he wrote his own name but then he began to decorate the areas around it. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly when he was finished. They soon turned downward, however, as the waves came in and washed it away.

He began to write a sentence. A small, tiny sentence that held a lot of meaning. Hoping, praying even, that once the sentence was down and the waves washed it away that the sentence would be false. That the sentence would no longer hold meaning.

_ I love Alfred._

The waves washed up, erasing the word love. Now that remained was I and Alfred. Soon the word I was gone, leaving only Alfred. He waited minutes, but the former colony's name did not wash away. Ten more minutes past and it still had not washed away. It was in perfect condition, just the way it had been when he had wrote it.

"Arthur!"

Oh God! Oh no! He could never mistake that voice but, for precautions, he stood up and looked around. Yup, he could see the glint from America's glasses.

To say he was freaking out is an understatement. England was panicking, his heart was racing and he felt like he could pass out. Even if America was a huge idiot, he wasn't that stupid. He'd see that his name was written beneath England's feet and would automatically want to know why it was there and if Arthur had written it.

So Arthur did the first thing that popped into his head. He plopped himself down onto the name, and water that had just been washing over it, and pretended that he was enjoying the waves even though the saltwater was probably ruining his favorite pants. And it had already seeped into his pants and underwear causing even more discomfort for the older nation.

His former colony ran over and full out laughed at England's expression. He had his arms crossed and a blush forming on his cheeks, avoiding any and all eye contact with America.

"Aw!" America reached out and tussled England's hair. England resisted the urge to cry out and scream that he shouldn't do that to him when he would always do that to him when he was younger. "Iggy's upset because I came to the beach!"

"I am not upset because you came here, you git! I'm upset because my-" He stopped. America was giving him a quizzical look. "Er...I'm upset because I got sand in my eye."

America chuckled and knelt down, reaching out and wiping the corners of Arthur's eyes with his thumbs. Just like Arthur did whenever Alfred had gotten hurt as a child and had been crying. All that America needed to do now was pick him up and coo that everything was going to be okay. Arthur reached up and tore America's hands from his face and stood up.

"I was enjoying my time." He lied slightly. It wasn't like he wasn't enjoying his time. He was mostly thinking instead of enjoying the beach. His eyes wandered slightly toward the sand. Alfred's name was now unreadable.

Alfred sighed, "Arthur."

"Go home, America."

_Go home. All the way home. With me. Come back._

"I don't want to. I," He pointed to himself. "Happen to enjoy the beach!"

England really, really, really needed a drink right now. In fact, he decided that going for a drink would be a very good idea. America removed his jacket and then rolled up his sleeves. The thing that caught Arthur's eye made him stop dead in his track.

There, nestled snugly inside of America's jacket, was a simple piece of fabric. It had obviously been stitched in and had been stitched by someone who obviously had no idea what they had been doing.

There inside of his jacket was a flag.

_England's_ flag.

America could sense the older nation's body tense. He turned to see what the problem was and had his jacket shoved into his face.

"What the bloody hell is this!?" England was pointing at the flag stitched into the jacket. America fell backward into the ocean water and blinked.

"Oh. Oh. _Oh_...That." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I bought the flag from a store when I was last here and stitched it into the inside of my jacket."

"Why!?" England could feel that he was on the verge of tears. He didn't even know why the tears pricked his eyes. All that America had done was sew his flag inside of his jacket, it was nothing special. Well, it _shouldn't_ be something special. But, deep down, Arthur felt that it was very special. It meant that America still _cared_, even if it was only a little. "Why would you..."

"Iggy..."

"Don't call me that you bloody git! Just tell me why!" He demanded. Tears began to fall from his eyes. He cursed under his breath and wiped his eyes, hoping that America hadn't seen his tears.

"Arthur why are you...?" Alfred reached out and let his palm rest against Arthur's cheek. His thumb began to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop.

"Oh Alfred! Why!" His body began to shake as the sobs ripped through his throat. He hadn't cried this hard since a certain colony won it's independence. "W-Why would you do this!? Why would you...!?" He fell to his knees.

America dropped to his knees as well and wrapped his arms around England's frame. He rubbed England's back, singing softly in his ear.

_"A drop in the ocean, a change in the weather. I was praying that you and me might end up together. It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert, but I'm holding you closer than most 'cause you are my heaven."_

England's sobbing began to stop as he listened to America. Was he really singing? Was this not a dream? He stopped altogether as America finished.

"That's my answer."

England had to refrain from murdering the man with kisses. So, he settled with crushing their lips together. He could feel America smile against his lips and return the kiss.

England hadn't expected a very excited America to stay the night however. Well, maybe he had planned it in his head but had not planned for America to actually _want_ to spend the night with him.

America stepped in, dropped his bag, wrapped his arms around Arthur, and gave him a passionate kiss. Arthur felt like his head was swimming and didn't notice as Alfred began to advance, leaving the British man's lips and kissing his neck.

Well, he didn't notice until he felt Alfred's hand begin lifting his shirt.

Let's just say that they continued their "activities" in another room.

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**A.N: Haha! You thought it'd be angsty all the way through right? Right? I thought so! :D**

**Anyway, the song that America sings is" A Drop In The Ocean" by Ron Pope. It is an amazing song! I encourage you to go and listen to it! DO IT!**

**I'll leave what they did in the bedroom to your imagination! :)**


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